Encounter
by TADAHmon
Summary: Arnold's in trouble with Wolfgang. Another bully succeeds in helping him. -_-;; This story is tres baka.


An encounter to remember.  
  
I don't own HA! This is just a one-part story that I chose to write. I haven't written a complete one-parter since Olga's Furby, yay!  
  
It seemed that when life was just returning to normal for Arnold and the gang and the excitement after the neighborhood was saved again, something else happened but it didn't effect the whole neighborhood- it just affected Arnold and Helga.  
  
You want the story? Ok. One day, the fourth graders were playing baseball as usual when Wolfgang interrupted it. Or should we say the baseball interrupted Wolfgang? Look at it as you will.  
  
He was walking down the street around five o'clock in the afternoon, not noticing that the fourth-graders were playing baseball in the vacant field. Suddenly he looked up and, in slow motion, a baseball was flying down to him at almost the speed of light. As soon as it hit, he fell down and everything went black for awhile.  
  
The fourth graders crowded around him, at a distance, Arnold the only one brave enough to actually go nearer and stare down at Wolfgang. When it seemed that the fifth-grade bully was coming to, he stuttered, "A-are you ok, Wolfgang?"  
  
"Who threw that ball?!" was the only answer he recieved, causing all of the fourth graders to jump back, even Helga and Harold.  
  
The majority of the fourth graders immediately pointed to Arnold, who grinned nervously.   
"It was a f-fly ball, you know?"  
  
"I'll get you, fourth-grader, just you wait! ... Ooh, I'll get you when these blue birdies stop flying around me!" Wolfgang announced menacingly before falling back against the concrete.  
  
***  
  
The next day, Arnold and Gerald walked slowly to school.  
  
"I don't know what to tell ya, man."  
  
"I don't know what to tell me either, Gerald. Doesn't help me much though."  
  
"I still say you should've called off sick," Gerald attempted again. "That baseball hit probably caused a short-term memory problem. He'd have forgotten about you by tomorrow."  
  
"Well, there's only one good thing out of this."  
  
"And what's that?"   
  
"Helga didn't notify me every two minutes that it was only so and so amount of time till I died."  
  
"True, true," Gerald grinned briefly. "Speaking of whom," he whispered, noticing the blonde bully skip-roping by the school as her Japanese friend, Phoebe, watched.  
  
As the two boys neared, she stopped and held the rope at her side bunched up in one fist as she glared down at them. "Well, well, well. It's the Hair boy brigade. I guess it might be the big day, eh, Football Head?"  
  
Arnold returned her stare and shrugged. "I wouldn't know, Helga." The two boys then walked off.  
  
"Arnold doesn't have the best run of affairs, does he, Helga?" Phoebe spoke up.  
  
"If you mean luck, I guess he has typical Football Headed luck. C'mon, Phoebes!" Helga urged as the bell rang.  
  
"C'moning!"  
  
* * *  
  
Later on, Arnold was sitting on the school steps, dully staring ahead as the kids played their different games. Nadine was the only one not playing, chasing bugs around with her net as Rhonda watched from her perch on the solid wooden bench.  
  
Wolfgang was also there, glaring at Arnold. Just before the bell rang, the bulky fifth-grader stood over him and growled. "Ok, football face, you and me at 5 o'clock in that alley across from the vacant lot, understand? And if you aren't there, I know where you live."  
  
Arnold winced as the bell rang and Wolfgang left. The last time he had a run-in with Wolfgang, he ended up with two blackeyes and hung up by the shirt collar until 5:30 in the morning.  
  
"Arnold, man, are you going in?" Gerald ran to him.  
  
"Yeah, sure, Gerald," was his dull reply. "Let's go." They walked into the school and through the hall as Helga watched from an empty classroom.  
  
"Oh, what tragic misfortunes must always mar our young lives," she murmured, sighing sadly over her Football-headed love.  
  
* * *  
  
All day, Arnold dully listened as Mr. Simmons talked about amphibians... nouns... fractions... etc., etc. By the time the bell finally rang, Mr. Simmons was worried- Arnold hadn't looked this dreary since Parents' day.  
  
"Arnold, are you ok?" he asked as the boy passed by his desk.  
  
"Huh, yeah, I'm fine, Mr. Simmons," he replied, snapping back to attention momentarily before leaving the classroom. As he walked through the halls, his mind played tricks on him and he jumped continuously as he waited for Wolfgang to jump him, right then and there. "Five o'clock... Five o'clock... Five o'clock..."  
  
Helga ducked away from the door of the school as he passed without noticing her. "Hmmm," she sighed.  
  
* * *  
  
Later that day, Helga hid around the boarding house, waiting for Arnold to come out but a couple hours passed and she had to wonder if he was going just stay inside all day. But then the door slammed open and Arnold was heard telling his grandma bye, that he was going for a walk.  
  
"Ok, Kimba! Be back in time for the mess cart!"  
  
"Sure, Grandma," he whispered, walking slowly down the stairs and away from the house.   
  
Helga tailed him, which was easy, since he wasn't paying attention to anything anyway.  
  
As he made it to the alley, Wolfgang was waiting for him and came out, cracking the knuckles in his right hand. "Well, well, well," Wolfgang stated. "Never ending with the courageousness, eh? That's too bad." He grinned evilly and glanced up at the bruise on the top of his head, right at his hair-line. "See this? That's what your whole body will look like when I'm through with you." He grabbed him and pulled him into the alley.  
  
Helga grabbed her cell phone and dialed a quick number. "Phoebes! Now!"   
  
"Ok, Helga! Now, Mr. Simmons," the small Japanese girl whispered from her outlook at Gerald field.  
  
"Oh, dear. Ok. Come with me, Phil. You too, Principal Wartz." The two men followed as the teacher rushed to the alley. "Stop right there, Wolfgang!"  
  
"Look at this! We got you right where we want you, young man," Wartz declared, stepping in.  
  
"Oh, go on. You can't do anything to me outside of school grounds, and you know it." He spat at the ground.  
  
"Short-man!" Grandpa exclaimed, pulling his grandson away. "Speak to me, boy!"  
  
"Yeah, I'm ok, Grandpa," he answered, smiling slightly. "Who planned this?"  
  
"Let's get out of here, boy, and then I'll tell you!" he exclaimed, rushing as fast as his plastic hip could allow.  
  
"Ok, so tell me," Arnold urged as Grandpa looked over him.  
  
"It looks like you got away with nary a scratch, Short-man... Anyhow, it was your little blonde haired friend with the one eyebrow."  
  
"Helga?!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yuh-huh, that's the one."  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, Arnold was back at school as normal and Mr. Simmons was glad that he had returned to normal. Wolfgang wasn't seen all day and they heard that he was sent to a counselor to figure out his bullying issues. Arnold hoped it would help and Helga hoped it wasn't Ms. Bliss he was sent to.  
  
"Ah," Helga smiled to herself, watching him in class. She took the time to shoot off a quick spitball before class started and he just looked over his shoulder at her, with a half-smile on his face. After that response, she didn't bother doing more, shocked to the very ends of her ponytails.  
  
* * *  
  
At lunch, Helga was walking by with her empty lunch-box as usual when Arnold called her over.  
  
"What, Football head?"  
  
"I just wanted to ask, since Gerald's home sick today, would you wanna sit here?" he asked, smiling.  
  
"Huh? Well, all right, I guess, but only because Phoebe isn't here yet..." She sat down on the chair across from him.  
  
"So why did you help me with Wolfgang yesterday?"  
  
"Why? Because I hate that guy..."   
  
"Whatever you say," he responded, smiling again. "Whatever you say..." 


End file.
